


somewhere between the stars

by nightswatch



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M, Season 8 Spoilers, Sunsets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 07:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17280017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: Years after the end of the war, Keith runs into an old acquaintance on a remote planet.





	somewhere between the stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ronanlynchisneversleepingagain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronanlynchisneversleepingagain/gifts).



> What the fuck even was Season 8, y'all?

**I.**

 

Somewhere between the stars, a light flashes.

Keith frowns into the vast darkness that stretches out in front of him. He’s been petting Kosmo absent-mindedly, not really paying attention to his surroundings. These parts are probably the last place in the universe where he’d expect to run into trouble, so his brain, much like his ship, was mostly on autopilot. He was staring out at the stars, fingers gently running through the wolf’s fur, his thoughts far away.

Nothing is moving and the stars are twinkling at him unassumingly. The only noise is the hum of his ship.

Keith is far away from the Blade’s base, on his way home from a delivery to an Alliance planet that had requested some help after half of their food supplies had been destroyed in a storm.

Keith leans back, still on edge. He hasn’t been attacked out here in years. They’re at peace, and nobody means him any harm, nobody wants his head.

And yet…

Keith can’t quite convince himself to relax. It’s been so long, but sometimes – especially when he wakes up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat – it seems like it was only a short while ago that they were at war. It’s still in his bones, won’t leave him, not really, no matter how peaceful his journeys through space are now.

A flash like the one he saw could mean a number of things. Someone in trouble, a trick of the light, or maybe just his imagination. It doesn’t have to be anything. Keith draws in a deep breath and leans back. Everything’s fine. He won’t–

There it is again.

But it’s not outside his ship, as he first thought. It’s right next to him. The screen to his left, the one he uses to punch in coordinates, gives a bright flash and then returns to normal. Keith gives it a tap and it goes dark.

“Oh, come on,” Keith grumbles and taps it again. He needs that screen. If that screen goes dark, he won’t make it home. Or, well, he probably will, but he’ll spend some time floating about aimlessly until he finds his way back.

After two more taps, the screen flickers back to life and Keith feeds it the coordinates of the home base again. He could just save them to the ship’s system, but part of him is still scared that the wrong person might get their hands on them. Keith sighs at his ship – he’s been flying it for the past few years and it’s been a reliable companion, but it also has its quirks. Faulty heating that sometimes has his ship feeling just a little too cold or a little too warm, but not so much that it’s uncomfortable, and the way it stutters a little sometimes when he starts to speed up before it actually kicks into gear. All of that is stuff he quickly got used to.

This one is new, though.

He’ll keep an eye on it. Might be an issue with the wiring. He’ll have someone take a look when he’s back at the base, so he doesn’t one day end up with with a malfunctioning screen in the middle of nowhere.

The wolf nudges his knee. He can tell that Keith isn’t as calm as he usually is on these trips.

“We’re all good, bud,” Keith says and gives Kosmo’s head a gentle pat. “Everything’s f–”

The screen flashes again, but goes back to normal a split-second later. Keith glares at it, like that’s going to do anything. A few seconds later, it goes dark again.

Keith keeps glaring and taps it, because that worked before.

Nothing.

Another tap.

Nothing.

“Okay,” Keith mutters. “Fine. Be like that.”

He gives it fives minutes, stays on course, and hopes that it’ll come back on by itself.

Keith taps it again.

Nothing.

Something twists in the pit of his stomach. He takes a deep breath. He’s been through worse; this is barely even an issue, but he’d rather not get stranded in space right now.

At least he knows where he is.

The wolf whines softly.

“Don’t worry,” Keith says, but it’s for him as much as it is for Kosmo. There’s a planet close-by that he’s stopped at before for supplies. Earth has given it a number, but the locals call it Aindaron. The people are friendly enough.

Someone should be able to help him out there.

*

“Three turns.”

“ _Three_?” Keith asks, incredulous. Three turns means three days, although days on this planet are a few hours shorter than the days that Keith knows from Earth. Maybe it’ll be two and a half days in the end, but still. He wasn’t planning on sticking around for this long.

“What, did you think I could conjure the parts I need out of nothing?”

Keith doesn’t reply, because of course he didn’t think that. He thought that it might be an easy fix, but he was clearly wrong.

“Listen,” the mechanic says, “the wiring’s fried. You’ve got two broken parts, one of which I don’t have, so either you take your ship and try to make it home on your own, or you give me three turns.”

Keith nods. “Thank you,” he says sullenly, because he knows it’s not technically the mechanic’s fault that he’s stuck here, but he’s still less than delighted that he’ll have to pass the time here somehow.

“There’s a place just down the road from here that’ll have a room for you. It’s at the corner. Can’t miss it. Tell them Mirri sent you and they’ll give you a good deal.” He eyes Kosmo, who’s sitting behind Keith, tail curled around him, looking as cute as he possibly can. He knows when he needs to play nice. “They don’t have an issue with, uh… pets, if you pay extra.”

Keith thanks him again and leaves his ship behind, the wolf trailing behind him. He knows the kind of place that Mirri is sending him to – it’s where you run into all sorts of people, where the owner will keep their mouth shut if your wallet is big enough, where no one asks any questions at all.

It’s not the kind of place Keith would choose for himself these days, but with Kosmo following him around, he doesn’t have that many other options. He can’t leave him with the ship.

People look at them as they wander down the street, but Keith knows it’s not about him. It’s the wolf. Not a sight you see every day. No one bothers them, though. The people here are from all over the galaxy, have settled here over time and turned this place into some sort of trading post.

It’s a strange little planet. The light is weirdly low right now, but it’s not like a night on Earth. It does remind him of home in some ways, the houses made of some type of stone, the streets paved in deep black, the air perfectly breathable. Despite the strange purple and blue shrubbery, Keith almost feels like he’s walking down a street on Earth. Until he looks up and sees two suns.

Still, for a split second, he almost misses Earth.

It’s been a little over ten months since his last trip to the Garrison. He’s overdue for another visit – Pidge and Hunk have taken to sending him reminders when it’s been too long. But those two feel like two weeks are too long.

As he walks, Keith looks around, at the stores lining the streets, advertising everything a visitor does and really doesn’t need. He slows down next to a souvenir shop, wondering if he should pick up a keychain for Pidge and Hunk, for his inevitable trip back to Earth. Maybe one for Lance, in case he’s close to Altea at some point. Some of the souvenirs have pictures on them, some writing in a language Keith can’t decipher.

He’s picked up his fair share of alien languages over the years, and it’s come in handy when his communication device didn’t pick up on whatever he was trying to translate. Maybe he can learn this place’s language. He sort of recognizes some of the letters from other planets, like they were all jumbled together and mashed up into an entirely new language. He has three days and he’d rather not spend all of his money in this place, so he has to find something to occupy himself with. Maybe this will be it.

At the end of the street, he finds the brick house that Mirri directed him to. It’s run-down and dingy and really wouldn’t be Keith’s first choice under different circumstances, but it’ll have to do. When he steps inside, he immediately feels better about the place. It’s cozy, all dark wood and warm, dimmed lights. There’s a bar on the right, next to a small reception desk. It’s where Keith should head first, but he he doesn’t make it that far.

It’s become a habit for him to assess every room he walks into, to figure out how he can make a quick escape if he needs to. He takes mental notes on the doors, the windows, every person in the room. Two people on his right by the window, probably eating a late lunch, one guy sitting at the front of the bar with a strange black-and-purple bird perched on his shoulder, another guy behind the bar, pouring drinks. 

And that’s how far he makes it.

Because all the way in the back, tucked into a corner behind the bar, sits someone Keith wouldn’t have expected to find here in a million years.

The universe is too vast for chance meetings in remote corners.

The universe is too vast for him to come across familiar faces entirely on accident.

The universe is too vast for Takashi Shirogane to be sitting behind that bar, and yet there he is.

Keith freezes and Kosmo bumps into his back, huffing at him lowly.

People are looking at them. Well, they’re likely looking at Kosmo who wags his tail at the attention and lets out a soft bark.

Shiro has seen him, too. He probably saw Keith before Keith even looked around the tavern, right when he walked in through the door. Their eyes meet and Keith wants to run. Just turn around and walk away. He can find himself a different place to sleep.

His feet won’t move.

Shiro hasn’t moved either, but his eyes are fixed on Keith. His lips move and even though Keith can’t hear him, he knows that Shiro just said his name.

Only a few seconds have ticked by since Keith walked in here, but it seems to him that he’s been standing in the door for an embarrassingly long time. He needs to make a choice. Stay or go. If he stays, he’ll have to talk to Shiro. If he goes, Shiro might come after him and he’ll have to explain why he just walked away from him without saying a word.

And what is he going to say? _Sorry, but going to your wedding absolutely destroyed me and I tried to convince myself that part of me wasn’t still in love with you, but seeing you just now felt like a punch in the face and I didn’t want to deal with any of this? And anyway, it’s not like we’re still friends?_ Yeah, right.

Kosmo takes that decision away from him when he wanders off towards Shiro. Keith can’t do anything but follow him with a sigh.

The bartender shoots him an inquiring look, clearly asking if Kosmo is going to destroy this establishment.

Keith shakes his head ever so slightly.Kosmo has already made it all the way over to Shiro, who slides off his barstool, bends down and says, very softly, “Look at you, you’re so big.” He straightens up, eyes on Keith. “Hey.”

Keith can’t even manage that, so he just nods.

“What are you doing here?” Shiro asks.

Kosmo nudges his hand, because he clearly wasn’t done saying hello.

“I had some issues with my ship,” Keith says. It doesn’t even occur to him to ask Shiro how he ended up here.

He’s angry, maybe not at Shiro, but at everything they were and everything they didn’t end up being. Part of him just wants to reach out and wrap his arms around Shiro and bury his face in the crook of his neck, but the other part knows that they’re past a point where he could do that.They haven’t seen each other in ages. The last time was just in passing. A quick hello, a conversation without much substance, a “How are you?”, some pleasantries, and that was it. Keith escaped before he could get roped into anything too awkward.

And now they’re here, finally face to face again, and Keith’s heart has something to say about that, but Keith tells his brain not to listen.

“Have a seat?” Shiro says.

Against his better judgment, Keith slides onto a barstool.

His heart approves.

*

They don’t really talk.

Keith orders some sort of stew and the bartender slams down a glass in front of him. “On the house, for Shiro’s friend,” he says and pours some strange purple liquid into it.

It sounds strange to Keith’s ears – _Shiro’s friend_. Technically that’s what he is, what he’s supposed to b e. They’ve been through so much together, but in the end it didn’t keep them from drifting apart, little by little.

It started even before the end of the war. Keith didn’t even notice at first, but they were talking less and less, and when they did it was about strategy, and they stopped seeking each other out, only saw each other in meetings.

Then the war was over.

Then they went their separate ways.

Then Shiro got married, and Keith went to the wedding, and managed to convince himself that it was for the best, that things between them would have never worked out anyway. There was too much between them, too much history, too much left unsaid.

After that, they spoke even less than before. Keith didn’t want to hear about Shiro’s happy married life.

And now…

Now they’ve somehow ended up here, deep, deep in space, entirely by chance, and Keith doesn’t know how to talk to him. He doesn’t even know where to start, so he takes a sip of the strange purple drink. It’s sweet before it burns on his tongue.

Keith coughs.

“Strong, isn’t it?” Shiro says, smile in his voice.

“A bit,” Keith mutters.

“It’s wine. Some sort of specialty.”

Keith frowns. “You come here a lot?”

“Occasionally, when that’s where they need me to go.”

It dawns on Keith that he has no idea what Shiro is doing with his life these days. He glances over at him, but can’t bring himself to outright look at his face, so his eyes settle on Shiro’s fingers, wrapped around a glass with the same purple drink that Keith has in front of him.

Keith used to wonder, sometimes, what those fingertips might feel like on his skin. Not anymore. Not until just now. For one completely insane moment, Keith wants to lean closer to Shiro, but he doesn’t move an inch. He looks, though, at Shiro’s fingers, the tiny scars on one hand, and the metal ones that look different than Keith remembers. And– Keith’s fingers involuntarily twitch against his own glass.

There’s no ring on Shiro’s finger.

“So how’d you end up here?” Keith asks, voice low.

“Long story,” Shiro says.

Keith raises his eyebrows in question, finally looking over at Shiro.

Shiro shrugs, his smile sheepish. “Classified.”

“Wait, are you flying for the Garrison again?”

Shiro’s silence is answer enough.

“Oh,” Keith says. “Isn’t that… You’re far away from home.”

“I needed a change,” Shiro says softly.

Keith is about to decide whether or not he should ask why when the bartender sets down his stew in front of him. “Enjoy,” he says, his accent entirely foreign. He picks up a bottle and fills up Shiro’s glass. “Ehh, Shiro, you wants any food?”

“I’m good, thanks, Cisa.”

Cisa winks at him and swaggers away, twirling the bottle in a way that shouldn’t be possible.

“You’re his favorite customer, huh?” Keith asks.

“I helped Cisa out with some rowdy patrons the first time I was here,” Shiro says, “and now he won’t stop giving me free drinks.”

Keith can’t help it, he laughs.

“You have to be careful with those,” Shiro says.

Keith huffs at him and downs the rest of his in response before he starts wolfing down his stew. It’s good, even though he’s pretty sure that he doesn’t recognize a single ingredient. By the time he’s taken the first bite, his glass is already full again.

“How is it?” Shiro asks.

“A lot better than the regular space goo,” Keith says.

Their entire conversation seems stilted, like they’ve forgotten how to talk to each other. Maybe they have. Maybe they’re back at the start, except it’s not that easy. They can’t just push _reset_ and start over.

Shiro doesn’t talk as Keith finishes his stew. After, he grabs his drink. He should probably ask for water, but he quite likes the taste of that drink, the sweetness of it, and it’s not like he has anywhere to be for the next few days. He hasn’t had a day off in a while.

“So, what’s wrong with your ship?” Shiro eventually asks.

“The navigation screen is broken.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“I’ll be stuck here for three days,” Keith says.

Shiro remains quiet at that. He’ll probably be on his way back to Earth tomorrow.

“You should watch the sunsets at the bay if you have time,” Shiro tells him.

Keith hums. “Two suns.”

“It’s quite the sight.”

“I’m sure it is,” Keith mutters and takes another sip of his drink, because he’s once again out of things to say.

Shiro holds up his glass and Keith clinks his against it.

“There’s a store, just a little further down the road, that sells stuff from Earth,” Shiro says.

“Hmm…”

“I just…” Shiro shakes his head.

“What?”

“Never mind.” Shiro shifts on his barstool. “I haven’t seen you at the Garrison in a while.”

“We talked the last time I was around. Remember? At Pidge’s?”

“You haven’t been back ever since then?” Shiro asks, the surprise plain in his voice.

“No.”

“Oh. I thought you might have…” Shiro trails off and leaves it at that.

Keith can fill in the blanks. Shiro thought he might have come home and didn’t stay long enough to say hello to Shiro. “We had other missions,” Keith says. Earth seems to be doing just fine on its own; they don’t need the Blade’s help. “Hunk has been… pretty vocal about my absence.”

“He’ll be glad to hear that I ran into you.”

“Yeah,” Keith only says. Because… it’s funny how they both ended up here. With how big the universe is, what are the chances that two old friends accidentally come to the same place? Pidge could probably tell him.

Another sip of the purple drink, and Keith’s face starts to feel strangely warm. A few more, and he finds himself smiling at nothing in particular.

His tongue isn’t fast enough to tell Cisa that he doesn’t want another drink. Cisa also sets down a plate of crackers in front of them, fist-bumps Shiro and takes off again, whistling. The tavern has filled up quite a bit and Keith didn’t even notice. His brain is a lot slower than usual and he tries not to panic, because there’s no way he could win a fight like this, but no one’s going to attack him, he’s perfectly be fine, but if he had to, he couldn’t, and–

“Keith,” Shiro says, a little amused.

Keith draws in a deep breath.

“I told you to be careful with that wine,” Shiro says, grinning now. His eyes are crinkled more than they used to be. His glass is still full; he’s clearly been pacing himself.

Keith groans and wipes his hair out of his face.

“Don’t worry,” Shiro says, “I got you.”

Keith’s face feels even hotter after that.

*

When Keith wakes up, his head is pounding and his stomach does an uncalled for somersault. He blinks, trying to remember… whatever will help him figure out how he ended up in a bed.

He doesn’t remember getting himself a room, but he’s definitely in what could be a room at the tavern. The furniture is made from the same dark wood. Someone has tucked a blanket around him and he’s not wearing his shoes, although he finds them quickly when he peers over the edge of the bed. They’re on the floor, tipped over, next to Kosmo, who’s still fast asleep.

Keith tells his stomach to behave and carefully sits up to look around the room. Which, he’s sure now, is definitely not his. It’s Shiro’s.

Because Shiro is right there, sleeping in an arm chair, legs propped up on the mattress, head tipped back, snoring very softly. Keith has no recollection of how he ended up here, only knows that it’s probably that strange purple wine that’s responsible for this mess.

He needs to get out of here before Shiro wakes up. Mostly because he’s embarrassed, but also because he doesn’t want to put himself in the same position that he was in yesterday – with absolutely nothing to say to Shiro. Knowing Shiro, he’ll probably find Keith before the day is over to say goodbye. And Keith knows he should stay, wake up Shiro, say goodbye right now instead of just sneaking out, but he _can’t_. What if Shiro wants to talk? What if they have an actual conversation? Keith’s chest tightens up at the thought. No, he can’t stay in this room. He needs to leave.

Keith slides off the mattress as quietly as he can, quietly enough so he won’t wake Shiro, and bends down to gently pet Kosmo’s fur. It only takes a second for Kosmo to blink at him and shake himself awake.

“We’re leaving,” Keith whispers to him.

Kosmo understands when Keith holds on to him and zaps them out of Shiro’s room. They end up back across the street from the mechanic where Keith dropped off his ship yesterday. The planet’s two suns are high up in the sky.

Keith already feels guilty for leaving like that. He shouldn’t have, but it’s not like he can sneak back in.

He buys breakfast for himself and Kosmo in a small bakery, eats it very slowly in an attempt to appease his roiling stomach, and then wanders about aimlessly for a little while. A group of children stop him at some point to ask if they can meet the wolf and Kosmo obligingly bends his head down to let them pet his fur. Then he keeps walking and eventually ends up buying a book and some snacks he didn’t even know he missed in the store that sells goods from Earth. He sits in a park and reads in the shade of a tree with huge midnight blue leaves, leaning against Kosmo, who’s happy to just doze for a little while.

It’s a wasted day.

Keith doesn’t remember the last time he gave himself time for one of those.

Base got back to him to tell him that they were all good, followed by a message from his Krolia, telling him to enjoy his time off and to take as long as he’d like. He’s aware that they’re not completely lost without him, but he still feels strangely guilty every time he takes some time off.

All day, he keeps looking around, almost expecting Shiro to walk up to him, but he never comes. Maybe he’s giving Keith space, maybe he doesn’t want to talk to Keith anyway after he left without saying a word this morning.

As the day carries on and Keith’s stomach starts to grumble, he leaves the park and walks onwards, following the signs for what he assumes is the boardwalk and the beach.

Two sunsets.

On the way, he buys something that might be a corn dog in a different place and feeds a few bits to Kosmo. He’s never been fussy about food.

The beach isn’t entirely deserted when Keith arrives, but he manages to find himself a spot away from the other beachgoers, where the waves of a deep green sea are washing against the rocky beach. Keith sits down, running his hands through the smooth pebbles, all gray and white and silvery. They almost look glassy in the palm of his hand, and they’re warm from the suns’ light.

Kosmo sits down next to him, curling his tail around Keith’s back.

One of the suns is starting to dip low, not quite touching the sea just yet, the other sun following it, a little further east, their glow turning the green sea orange in the distance.

Kosmo lets out a pleased huff.

Out of all the places in the universe to get stuck in for a few days, this one’s really not so bad.

*

Keith doesn’t move, doesn’t even look up, when someone sits down to his left, some space left between them, but close enough to make clear that they’re joining him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Shiro says.

Keith, eyes still on the horizon, takes a deep breath. “Yeah.”

Shiro drags his fingers through the glassy pebbles, but he doesn’t say anything else, just watches the sunset with Keith, and Keith can’t say that he minds having him here. The longer they sit there together, the more Keith itches to reach out, to say something, but he doesn’t have a thing to say and he can’t just… he can’t reach out. Not like this. That’s not who they are anymore.

At this point he isn’t even sure if that was who they were all those years ago. He does remember all those casual touches, though, and the smiles they shared, and the conversations they had, late at night, in the Castle of Lions when they couldn’t sleep and ran into each other in the halls.

In another universe, that could have been their beginning. Keith tries not to mourn all the things he never got to have. There are too many, and it stings just a little too much.

Keith can almost feel Shiro next to him. His warmth, maybe. Or his eyes on Keith. Right now, Keith doesn’t want to look up to find out, so he keeps his eyes straight ahead, where the first sun is sinking into the sea.

They used to watch sunsets together back at the Garrison sometimes, all the way out in the desert, when being out here was only an idea, when war wasn’t even on their minds, and when exploring the stars was a dream. Keith wants to go back to that sometimes, wants to do it all over again, wants to do it better. But who can say if he wouldn’t just make the same mistakes all over again?

Keith allows himself the quickest of glances at Shiro. His hand is right there, still touching the pebbles and Keith could just reach out and take it… and then what? Then everything will magically be fine again?

Shiro catches him looking and Keith quickly turns his face away again.

“Keith,” Shiro says softly. It’s not fair that Shiro gets to say his name like this. Like it _means_ something.

Keith doesn’t reply, because he doesn’t know how.

“You left,” Shiro goes on.

“I couldn’t stay,” Keith mumbles. He doesn’t have to explain what he means by that. That he just couldn’t bring himself to spend another second in Shiro’s room.

Shiro sighs softly.

The first sun has disappeared and the second one, smaller than the first, is sinking low now. It’s just a matter of time until it’ll be gone as well. As the light fades, some of the pebbles on the beach seem to start glowing. Keith picks up a handful and takes a closer look, turning them over between his fingers.

Shiro is watching him, a small smile on his face.

Above them, the stars are twinkling.

Keith drops the pebbles he was holding and says, “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”

Slowly, Shiro takes one of the glowing pebbles that Keith just dropped, clearly choosing his words wisely. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“About… everything.”

“Everything,” Keith echoes. That probably includes him getting his heart ripped out little by little when he and Shiro went from being friends to being… nothing in particular, really. He’d rather not relive that time in his life.

“Keith,” Shiro says, and something urgent has crept into his voice, along with a sadness that Keith knows all too well. It’s bone-deep for him; he can’t shake it off. He carries it around with him and every time he sees Shiro it flares up and claws at him to remind him that it’s still there. As if he could ever forget.

Keith almost wants to ask if they really have to talk, if they really have to drag it all up again and lay it out in the open.

“I hurt you,” Shiro says bluntly, “and I’m sorry.”

Well, there they go.

“I thought I was doing what was best at the time,” Shiro goes on, and it almost sounds rehearsed, like he’s had that conversation before in his head.

It’s funny, because Keith used to have those imaginary conversations with Shiro, too, but they never started and ended in the same way. Sometimes he saw himself accepting an apology, sometimes he saw himself offering one himself. Sometimes Keith saw himself walking away and never returning, and sometimes he saw himself kissing Shiro within an inch of his life.

Now that he’s being offered an apology, Keith doesn’t know what to do with it. Part of him wishes he could take it and hand it back and say, _Thanks, but I don’t want this_ , and another part wants to take it, just take it, and keep it.

“We were in the middle of a war, Keith. I didn’t know how to–”

Yeah, so, Keith doesn’t want to hear another word of this. “You could have just fucking talked to me instead of… ignoring that I was there at all.” He didn’t even know that he was still this angry about it. It’s all threatening to bubble out of him now, all the things he never said.

Shiro flinches, just a little.

“You completely shut me out, and even when it was all over, you…” Keith shakes his head. It’s not Shiro’s fault that he ended up being happy with someone else.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro says again. He pulls his knees up against his chest and tilts his head, and in the low light he looks so much younger than he is, almost like the day Keith first met him, the scar across his face almost invisible in this light. “You never really gave me a chance to apologize back then.”

Maybe he didn’t. Shiro clearly didn’t want to be around him anymore, so Keith pulled away, too. After the war, he didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to give Shiro a chance to catch him alone, because he was angry and scared that he’d say something he didn’t mean. Or, even worse, that he’d say something he did mean, maybe just a little too much of the truth. “Shiro…”

Shiro looks at him, somber now, his hand still resting on the pebbles, only an inch away from Keith’s. “I missed you.”

Doesn’t Shiro know that you can’t just say that to a person? And what Shiro means, of course, is that he missed him as a friend, but Keith’s heart doesn’t care about the meaning of it. “I…” Keith missed him, too, but saying _I missed you_ doesn’t even begin to explain just how big of a hole Shiro’s absence left in his life.

“Keith, please, just…”

“Just _what_? What do you want me to say? That’s it’s okay? That we’re all good now?” Keith snaps. He hasn’t felt like this in a long time, like his anger is boiling over and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. He used to feel like that as a kid, as a teenager, without his parents, a little lost wherever he went, and anger was the only thing he could safely feel.

“No, that's not what I want at all.”

“Then what do you want?” Keith asks.

Shiro is quiet for a moment, and Keith sees something in his eyes that might be longing. “A chance for both of us to make this right,” Shiro finally says.

Keith doesn’t know if they can make this right, if there is even any point in salvaging what they used to have. Keith will leave this place, and so will Shiro, and they’ll go their separate ways again. “I don’t know how,” Keith says.

Maybe that is when Shiro admits defeat. It’s when Keith realizes that he didn’t actually want him to, but they have nowhere to go back to.

Night falls and Shiro isn’t leaving, but he doesn’t say another word.

The pebbles glow in the darkness, crunching under Keith’s boots when he gets to his feet. He reaches down to give Shiro’s shoulder a squeeze and he regrets it a moment later when Shiro’s breath hitches a little in surprise.

“Promise you’ll say hello when you’re back at the Garrison?” Shiro asks.

Keith nods.

He doesn’t promise.

 

 

**II.**

 

There’s nothing wrong with Keith’s ship the next time he lands on Aindaron.

It’s been about two months since the last time he had to make a stop here. Today he’s back out of convenience – he’s on his way back to Base, but he’s running low on food. He’ll stop for a few hours and maybe have an early dinner at Cisa’s, because he learned last time that having an ally in someone like Cisa definitely can’t hurt. Then he’ll be on his way again.

Cisa smiles broadly when Keith walks into his tavern and waves him over. “Shiro’s friend,” Cisa says and a second later he’s pouring purple liquid into an empty glass that appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “Keith, right?”

“Yes,” Keith says, eyes on the purple wine, “but, Cisa–”

“You sits. Come on. Wine on the house, yeah? You haves dinner?”

“I’ll have the stew.”

“My momma’s stew. It’s good. You likes it, yeah?”

“It’s great.”

“On the house, then,” Cisa says and waddles away.

Keith sighs and takes a few tentative sips of the wine, because he doesn’t want to be rude. If he has that entire glass, he probably won’t be okay to fly his ship until later tonight. Maybe he’ll stick around to watch a sunset or two.

Cisa returns with a bowl full of stew and something that might be some kind of dog treat that he tosses to Kosmo. Then, while Keith has his mouth full of stew and can’t protest, he pours him some more wine. Cisa winks before he wanders off.

Keith keeps eating, hoping the stew will soak up most of the wine somehow.

“He’s late today,” Cisa says as he comes by to take Keith’s empty bowl.

“Who’s late?”

“Shiro.” Cisa tuts. “Every sixty Earth turns, give or take a few. He gots me an Earth clock last time. He’ll come soon. But he’s late today.”

“He was supposed to come today?” Keith asks.

Cisa nods and tuts again.

Keith doesn’t quite believe in coincidences anymore, but this has to be one. Again, he’s here, and Shiro is supposed to show up within the next few hours. The universe is entirely arbitrary and time is a concept they all make up for themselves, and yet they somehow work together like clockwork.

“I might already be gone when he gets here,” Keith says. “Can’t stick around for too long today.”

“He’ll be here,” Cisa says, nodding to himself.

Keith makes a point in slipping out of the tavern before Shiro makes an appearance. The first sun is low already, the city golden as Keith’s feet carry him to the beach. It’s not because part of him is hoping that he’ll see Shiro.

He doesn’t want to see Shiro.

That’s why he left Cisa’s in the first place. So he won’t have to talk to Shiro. Or even look at Shiro. Or be reminded of how much he misses Shiro.

That’s not why he’s not leaving just yet.

Those two sunsets, that beach, they’re so peaceful, and Keith could use a little peace right about now.

His heart calls him a liar, but Keith refuses to listen.

*

The pebbles on the beach are warm when Keith sinks down, Kosmo curled up next to him, just like last time.

The first sun has already disappeared halfway, but today the sunset looks redder, like spilled blood on the horizon. Keith hasn’t slept much during the last three days. He made his delivery and then spent the night in his ship, waking up in the middle of the night, not sure if he woke himself up because he was screaming or if something else tore him out of the nightmare.

Kosmo was right next to him, concerned, pawing at his leg until Keith told him he was fine and sank back down on his tiny cot in the back of the ship. He didn’t go back to sleep after that and took off early in the morning. The night after that, he could barely bring himself to close his eyes.

His nightmares aren’t always that bad, not always that real, but sometimes they pull him in, down, down, into a darkness that can’t reach him anymore, but when he sleeps, he forgets, and then that darkness is all there is.

Behind him, the pebbles crunch, just as the first sun is about to disappear.

Keith knows that it’s Shiro.

It’s not only wishful thinking, as much as he tells himself that he doesn’t want to see Shiro, but he knows what Shiro’s footsteps sound like, the way he approaches with caution, the way he lowers himself down next to Keith, carefully, quietly. Shiro has sat down next to Keith just like this so many times that Keith has lost count – out in the desert, on the roof of the Garrison, on the observation deck at the Castle of Lions.

“Cisa told me you were around,” Shiro says softly.

“Of course he did,” Keith replies.

Kosmo moves to greet Shiro, who buries his fingers in his fur. He doesn’t say anything else to Keith, eyes on the horizon.

It’s Keith who somehow can’t convince himself to swallow down his questions and ignore that Shiro is even here. “Why are you here?”

“Business,” Shiro says. “Just picking up a delivery.”

“For the Garrison?”

Shiro only smiles. Right. _Classified_. “I like coming here,” Shiro says eventually.

Keith likes coming here, too. He likes this beach, and the pebbles that are now starting to glow, the second sun dipping into the water in the distance. He likes Cisa, and his stew, and that strange wine that still has Keith’s cheeks feeling warmer than usual.

“I…”

Keith looks up when Shiro trails off and shakes his head. “What?” Keith asks.

“It’s just… this is the second time we both ended up here at the same time.”

“Yeah,” Keith says.

Shiro is looking right back at him, face half in shadow, half lit up by the light of the dying sun, his white hair streaked with gold, and he’s the most beautiful person Keith has ever laid eyes on. He can’t look away, as much as he wants to, as much as he’s trying to force his heart to stop running away with this feeling that’s starting to spread in his chest, tugging at his stomach.

“It’s…” Shiro picks up a handful of pebbles. “I guess it’s just a funny coincidence.”

Yes. Just that.

Keith hums in agreement, because he doesn’t want to get into a conversation about the existence of happenstance. It _is_ a coincidence. The universe isn’t trying to give him a sign. Keith made a choice when he landed his ship on this planet today. He was the one who put himself here. Not the universe.

The universe surely couldn’t give less of a shit about what happens to him. Or Shiro. The universe, whatever it even is, didn’t care about the war, about their fates, and it doesn’t care about their lives, their paths, or about whether or not they’re able to sleep at night.

Keith rubs his eyes.

“Tired?” Shiro asks.

“I haven’t been sleeping,” Keith says, because Shiro, of all people, might understand, and Keith is currently all out of people he can talk to about this. It’s been five years since the end of the war. He should have moved on with his life by now. He should have forgotten.

All Shiro says, though, is, “I see.”

Keith glances at him, at how stiffly he’s holding himself right now, like he can’t bring himself to relax. “Do you ever have nightmares about what happened?” he asks. He wants to know if he’s the only one. He’s never talked about it with Lance, or Pidge, or Hunk. Somehow, asking them would feel too personal, but this is Shiro.

Shiro, who might not even be his friend anymore, not after everything that happened. He doesn’t know why it feels like he can still ask Shiro these things, even though they’ve barely talked in years. Keith still wants to be angry at him, but right now he just needs someone who understands, someone who was there with him.

“Sometimes,” Shiro says.

Keith nods. He didn’t expect a detailed answer, but one word is–

“It got better, but they never really went away. Curtis was…” Shiro trails off again and drags his fingers through his hair. “He was there for me.”

“That’s nice,” Keith says, and he means that, but it doesn’t come out sounding like he means it. When it comes to Curtis, Keith has always tried his hardest to be sincerely happy for Shiro, but since being happy for Shiro also went hand in hand with feeling like someone was stabbing him in the stomach, Keith never quite managed to make it seem genuine.

He did want Shiro to be happy, though. He does.

Keith’s eyes, on their own accord, wander back to Shiro’s hand where his ring used to be. Maybe he’s just not wearing it on missions. Maybe he and Curtis are still happily married.

There it is again. That knife in his stomach.

“I guess we just weren’t right for each other in the end,” Shiro says quietly.

Keith isn’t sure if he understood for a moment with the waves crashing a few feet away from them. “You… He… You’re not…”

“It’s okay,” Shiro says, but he doesn’t sound okay. “It’s been a while since we split up.”

“It has?”

“Over a year.”

“You didn’t say anything,” Keith says, and it almost comes out like an accusation.

“About a year ago, I asked you if you wanted to have dinner and you insisted that you had to leave,” Shiro says, his voice still soft. “I was going to tell you, I just didn’t want to do it in front of everybody, and then the last time we saw each other…” Shiro holds up his hand. “I figured you noticed.”

“I…” Keith has absolutely no idea what to say. “I’m sorry?”

“I guess we just got married too quickly, we didn’t really… Well, we were all safe, the war was over, and it seemed like the right thing for us at the time. And it just… wasn’t.”

“So, it’s just you now?” Keith asks. And he shouldn’t, but there’s something burning in him and it won’t stop until he knows.

“Just Panda and I.”

“Panda.”

“He’s my cat.”

“You have a _cat_?”

“We found him close to the Garrison and we decided to keep him. Dr. Holt keeps an eye on him when I’m gone. He’s… quite large and he only has one eye, but he loves everyone.”

Keith doesn’t reply. He doesn’t know this Shiro and he wants to know him so badly, but he can’t let himself get pulled back into this.

He can’t fall in love with Shiro _again_.

The second sun is gone and the only light that’s left is the soft glow of the pebbles beneath them and the lights of the boardwalk behind them.

Keith shifts and nudges Kosmo. “I should go. They’re expecting me back at the Base.”

“You’re leaving already?”

“I just stopped for some supplies.”

“Oh,” Shiro says. “It was nice to see you Keith.” He gets up as well and it would be so easy for Keith to take a step closer and hug him, but he won’t do that to himself tonight.

Keith nods at him. “Yeah.”

They don’t say goodbye and it doesn’t even seem strange. Keith walks away, Kosmo trailing behind him, and he gets back to his ship, and he goes home.

He tries not to think about when he’ll see Shiro again.

 

 

 

**III.**

 

When Keith returns to Aindaron a few weeks later, it’s for business. It’s a scheduled pickup – some donations from different planets that all got collected here and that he’ll take back to Base for redistribution. Aindaron is a good place for that sort of business, because it’s a pretty popular trading post to begin with and also relatively safe, seeing as its inhabitants are from all over the galaxy. Keith lands a day early because he was in the area and it wouldn’t make sense to head back home first. He’ll get a room at the tavern.

As he gets off his ship, Keith forces his thoughts to stay far, far away form his last visit. If Cisa can be trusted, it’s right around the time that Shiro should be here, too, but Keith is definitely not hoping to see him. In fact, he’s hoping he missed him, because he’s here for a reason and he doesn’t need any distractions right now.

Shiro isn’t doing him that favor, though.

As soon as Keith walks into Cisa’s he spots Shiro in his usual corner at the far end of the bar.

Keith stares. Shiro stares back at him. Eventually, it’s Shiro who makes the first move and waves. Keith, slowly, waves back, and then turns his gaze away when Cisa comes ambling over to him. “Keith, a day early, yeah?”

“Sorry, change of plans,” Keith says. “Sort of.”

“Nothing to worry about.” Cisa slams a key on the table. “I gots you a room. Big one, for the wolf and you. Up the stairs. Left. Right. Second door.”

Keith nods, hands over his payment, and slinks up the stairs. He could have just slept on the ship, but he likes Cisa’s and Keith does enjoy sleeping in an actual bed every now and again. He starts up the stairs without looking back at Shiro, Kosmo trailing after him as he tries to find his room.

It doesn’t have a number, but the key slides into the lock effortlessly and Keith doesn’t even have to turn it for it to click open.

The room is bigger than the one he woke up in the first time he was here, with enough space for Kosmo to curl up, and a bed in the corner that’s a lot bigger than anything Keith has slept on lately. He puts down his bag, spends a few minutes staring out the window at nothing in particular, trying to figure out what to do with himself.

He’s hungry and Kosmo looks like he could go for one of Cisa’s treats as well – he’s waiting by the door, feigning patience, but clearly waiting for Keith to make a move. Kosmo could just head downstairs without him, Cisa would probably pet him and let him growl at troublemakers, but Kosmo rarely ever strays from Keith’s side anymore.

“Fine,” Keith says when Kosmo keeps looking at him with those sad, hungry eyes. “Let’s go.”

Kosmo disappears and is waiting for him right outside the door, almost prancing back down the stairs, heading for the bar, where Cisa coos at him and throws him a treat. One of the people at the bar yelps and nearly falls of their chair.

Keith’s lips twitch involuntarily.

Treat between his teeth, Kosmo wanders over to Shiro, who greets him with enthusiasm.

“Keith,” Cisa says. “Food?”

Keith nods and follows Kosmo, wondering if there was ever a way around sitting next to Shiro again. Maybe there wasn’t. Maybe this is his punishment for never giving Shiro a chance to talk to him. He thought the universe didn’t care about him, not in the grand scheme of things, but maybe it delights in screwing him over like this.

“Hey,” Shiro says, and it’s entirely too soft, just like his smile, the way his eyes crinkle.

Keith can feel part of himself melt a little when he sees that smile. Whenever he sees Shiro, he feels a few things too many. He wishes he could be absolutely indifferent, but that’s not how it works. Shiro will always be something to him, and he might always wish that he’ll be more to Shiro than he is right now. “Hey,” Keith says.

“You’re a day early,” Shiro says.

“I’m– Yes, but how do you–”

“I delivered some of the things you’re picking up.”

“Oh,” Keith says. It makes sense that Earth would send a donation with how much the Blade has helped them out in the past, but he wasn’t really expecting Shiro to be the one to do the delivering. “So that’s what you do for the Garrison?”

“Not usually.”

“But…?”

“But I wanted to see you,” Shiro says, “so I volunteered.” He looks Keith straight in the eye when he says it, like that entire sentence isn’t designed to rip Keith’s heart out.

Keith presses his lips together and looks away.

“Keith.”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry,” Shiro says, and Keith knows that he’s not apologizing for what he said just now.

Keith barely notices when Cisa sets down his stew and a glass of wine in front of him, even though he’s staring down at the counter, so he doesn’t have to look at Shiro. Keith takes a deep breath. “I…”

He’s sorry, too. About a lot of things.

“Come watch the sunsets with me later?” Shiro asks. “Like old times.”

 _Like old times_.

“It’s up to you,” Shiro says and hops off his barstool. “Enjoy your dinner, Keith.”

Keith nods.

He eats his stew while his thoughts are already elsewhere, flitting back to the beach no matter how much Keith tries to rein them in.

*

Keith spends some time in his room after dinner, lying on his bed, wondering if it’s too early to just go to sleep. The light outside is turning golden and he’s about to miss the first sunset, but he can’t bring himself to get up right now.

He’s not ready to have whatever conversation Shiro wants to have with him. He’ll never be ready. Because, in a way, it’s going to tear everything apart. No matter what they end up saying to each other, it’ll hurt more than it hurts right now on the other side of it.

As the light turns more and more orange, the ceiling becomes less and less interesting.

Keith’s heart thumps at him angrily because he still hasn’t moved, because he’s still wasting all his time _thinking_ when, deep down, he already knows what he really wants. 

“Kosmo,” Keith says. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Kosmo whines at him, tail swishing lazily. He’s not going anywhere.

“No?” Keith asks.

Kosmo’s refusal to move is answer enough, so Keith pulls on his boots and leaves Kosmo in their room, guarding Keith’s belongings. Not that he takes much when he goes on these trips.

The walk to the beach is a short one, but by the time he arrives, the first sun has already disappeared and the second one is about to set. It’s not hard to find Shiro, cross-legged by the water, just out of reach of the waves, hands buried in the faintly glowing pebbles.

Keith approaches slowly, from the side, so he won’t startle him. At this point, Shiro probably isn’t expecting him to show up.

There is a faint note of surprise in Shiro’s voice when he says, “You came.”

“I guess I did,” Keith mutters. Belatedly, he realizes that he sat down way too close to Shiro. Just like old times. Back in the desert, he always sat too close as well, but Shiro never seemed to mind.

“How have you been, Keith? I mean, really.”

“How have I been?” Keith echoes.

“I feel like I barely even know you anymore.”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?”

Shiro looks at him, and Keith knows that he’s willing to take the blame, but maybe, just maybe, it’s starting to dawn on Keith that it’s not that easy. Keith could have said something back then. When he noticed that they were drifting apart, he could have said something, and he didn’t. He let it go, found himself a bunch of convenient excuses, and then suddenly it was too late.

Keith tugs his fingers through his hair, a little restless, a little nervous.

“Just say it,” Shiro says.

“Say what?”

“Everything you’ve been wanting to say to me. Just say it. I don’t care if it hurts. I probably deserve it.”

The problem is, though, that he doesn’t. Shiro sacrificed _everything_ , and he deserves better than having all of Keith’s pent-up anger dumped on him, because this is not just about Shiro.

Keith draws up his legs and wraps his arms around them. There’s this ache in his chest that he hasn’t felt this badly in a long while, but now it’s back with a vengeance. “It’s not fair,” Keith finally says. “It’s not fair that we had to be the ones saving the universe. It was… so much.”

“I know,” Shiro says.

“We were just kids.” Keith bites down on his lower lip to keep it from trembling so hard that it hurts. “And you lost so much. That’s not fair either.” His mind is all over the place. There’s so much he kept inside, so much he never said to anyone. “I can’t sleep sometimes. I’m still waiting for someone to attack me wherever I go. _That’s_ not fair. And at the end of it all, we were just supposed to pick up the pieces and everyone was expecting us to be okay. And then I didn’t even…”

Keith takes a deep breath.

He doesn’t want to keep going, because all of this… it doesn’t matter. He can’t change it. Saying it won’t make it better, saying it won’t take him back in time. Shiro is quiet, waiting for him to continue. He knows that Keith wasn’t done yet.

“I didn’t even have you anymore,” Keith says.

Shiro draws in a deep breath.

“And I missed you,” Keith goes on, because if he’s telling the truth he might as well say as much as he dares. “I missed you so fucking much.”

Keith wipes at his cheek, furious, not sure if he’s actually crying or if he just wishes he finally could.

“I miss you all the time,” Shiro says.

Keith looks over at him – he’s so close and everything about him is so familiar.

Gently, tentatively, Shiro puts his hand on Keith’s back. “None of the things that happened to us were fair. And it wasn’t exactly what we signed up for either. And even afterwards… It just never really works out the way you think it will.”

Keith doesn’t reply. He quietly tells himself to breathe. Shiro’s fingers are warm on his back and it almost feels like they’re going to burn a hole through his clothes. Seconds, maybe even minutes, tick by as Keith convinces himself to let go just a little bit, to let Shiro in again, no matter if it’s going to hurt, and he slowly leans against Shiro side.

The sun is gone and Keith welcomes the darkness, the beach’s gentle glow surrounding them as they sit together, Shiro’s arm slung around Keith, and listen to the waves crash against the shore. Keith breathes in, and out, and it’s funny how the air doesn’t smell like salt here.

“Do you think…” Shiro’s fingers twitch on Keith’s back. “So, I feel like I should ask you again… Do you think the next time you come back to Earth, you might want to say hello to an old friend?”

“Yeah,” Keith says, “I might.”

He doesn’t have to see Shiro’s face to know that he’s smiling.

This doesn’t fix everything, in fact, this doesn’t fix anything at all, but maybe this will be a chance for them to try again, to do better, to be friends again somehow. Keith knows that it’s a fragile kind of peace, because he knows himself, too, and knows that his heart is trying to get his attention, beating in his chest like it’s been running all the way here. Because what if, _what if_ … there is a chance for them after all.

Keith squashes the thought before it can even properly take on form in his head. He scoots away, as slowly as he leaned against Shiro in the first place, and says, “I should head back and check on Kosmo.”

“Of course,” Shiro says and gets to his feet with Keith. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Keith nods. He almost leans back in to give Shiro a hug. Almost. He decides that he’s had enough emotional torture for one evening.

His heart will have to live with the disappointment.

*

Keith starts loading his ship early the next morning – Shiro comes by closer to noon to hand over several crates. He sticks around for about an hour to help Keith out, but they don’t really have a chance to talk. Keith eventually gets roped into a conversation with one of the Blade’s current members and Shiro only waves at him quickly when he leaves, trying to not interrupt their conversation. He likely needs to get his own ship ready to head back home.

The wolf is clearly ready to leave as well, waiting for Keith in his usual spot as he climbs into the cockpit. “Hey, buddy, I need to take care of one more thing before we go…”

Kosmo yawns at him in reply and curls up on the floor, tail over his eyes, so he clearly isn’t going with him.

Keith leaves him be and climbs out of the ship.

He can’t just leave without saying a word this time. Not after their talk yesterday. If he leaves now and doesn’t even say goodbye, it’d put them in the same place they were in when Keith first ran into Shiro at Cisa’s a few months ago.

He finds Shiro at Cisa’s – Cisa nods at the stairs and points to an empty key slot behind the reception when Keith arrives, looking around the tavern in an attempt to find Shiro in his usual corner, scared that Shiro left already.

Keith ends up knocking on Shiro’s door upstairs and the door opens to a ruffled-looking Shiro, who’s clearly in the middle of gathering up all his belongings. Considering that Shiro’s bag is the smallest Keith has ever seen, Keith probably almost missed him. There’s a good chance that Shiro will be out of here in two minutes.

“Keith,” Shiro says. “Everything okay?”

Keith nods. “I’m about to head out.”

“Oh,” Shiro says, a slow, gentle smile spreading on his face, “you came to say goodbye.”

Keith gives him a half-shrug, because this suddenly seems more awkward than it should. It must be way too obvious how he really feels, deep down, where he keeps all the worst things buried. “I’ll see you…”

“Soon,” Shiro says, and it’s not quite a question, but Keith feels himself nodding.

“Soon,” Keith echoes and then goes in for the hug he wouldn’t let himself have yesterday.

If Shiro is surprised, he doesn’t show it, just pulls Keith against his chest and holds him close for a much too short moment, Keith’s face pressed into his shirt for a split-second before he lets go again. Keith is a little slower to let go, his hands lingering on Shiro’s sides just a moment longer before he pulls away and convinces himself that another hug is too much at this point.

It’s time to go.

They’ll see each other again at some point, and they’ll talk again, and maybe they’ll find a way back to the way things were before everything fell apart. Maybe. Keith wants to find out right now if they even stand a chance, not in a few weeks or in a few months.

“Be safe out there,” Shiro says when Keith hovers in the doorway.

“You too,” Keith mumbles and turns away, smiling back at Shiro before he forces himself to walk down the hall.

Something in his chest flutters unpleasantly.

His throat feels tight.

Keith shakes his head at himself, shakes off that feeling, and heads back to his ship. Kosmo is waiting for him, sitting up when Keith sinks into his seat.

“Let’s go home, bud,” Keith says softly.

It takes Keith several seconds to start up the ship. He’s glad that Kosmo can’t call him out on his bullshit.

 

 

 

**IV.**

 

A few weeks later, Keith lands on Aindaron for no reason at all, stays for lunch, sits in the corner that Shiro usually sits in, and Cisa grins at him and says, “You’re a few turns late, eh?”

Which means that Shiro was here and Keith missed him, just by a few days.

Cisa shrugs at the face Keith is likely pulling right now. “He was early.”

Keith is more disappointed than he should be that he missed Shiro, but reminds himself that he wasn’t expecting to meet Shiro today anyway. He just wanted some lunch and he dropped off some supplies that are hard to come by on Aindaron. They’ve been helping them out a lot ever since Keith first landed here and he has a feeling that it has a lot to do with Cisa who hands him a bag full of treats for Kosmo when Keith leaves the tavern.

The next few weeks are busy for him.

A planet close to their Base is experiencing some heavy floods, so Keith spends some time there to help out in person before he takes off again, going on a few supply runs. He never spends more than a night at the Base and sleeps in his ship more often than not. He hasn’t been sleeping well to begin with, and his tiny cot in the back of the ship isn’t exactly helping with that.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed exactly the next time he lands on Aindaron. The trees have changed color – they look darker somehow, and the air is cooler. People are wearing heavy cloaks.

Cisa greets him like an old friend when Keith walks into the tavern with Kosmo at his heels and tells him off for not wearing anything warmer. Apparently they’re having a cold spell, which to Keith seems almost funny, because it’s not that much colder than usual to him, but maybe temperatures here never actually drop all that far.

Keith orders his usual stew and Cisa hands him a drink, even though Keith didn’t ask for it, and he sits in the corner, Shiro’s chair empty next to his.

“He’ll come,” Cisa says when he catches Keith looking.

“Huh?”

“Shiro,” Cisa says. “He’s late. But he’ll come. Always does.”

“Right,” Keith says.

“I know you’re waiting.”

“I mean… not really.”

Cisa nods. “Seven turns, maybe? Eight? Nine? Schedule’s off. Have another drink while you wait, eh?” And he pours Keith another glass of wine.

Keith is expected to be on his way back to Base the same evening, but he’s tired and maybe a little tipsy and all he can think of is Shiro, who might land on this exact planet tomorrow, or maybe the day after. Or maybe in a week. His heart tells him that it won’t forgive him if he doesn’t wait, but he might be needed elsewhere. He can’t sit here for a _week_.

He goes back to his ship as it slowly gets dark around him. Kosmo is waiting patiently for him to get a move on and only whines when it’s completely dark and Keith still hasn’t switched on the lights. The trees are glowing outside, so they’re not in complete darkness, but Kosmo seems to feel like Keith is taking too long.

He should go. Shiro isn’t coming today.

Maybe tomorrow, though. Not likely, but there’s a chance.

Keith reaches out to start a call. He’s not calling the base, though. Just his mom. He doesn’t need to turn this into a huge thing.

Krolia looks tired, which means he probably woke her up. He didn’t check what time it might be on the base. “Keith, everything okay?”

“Sorry,” Keith says, “everything’s fine. I just wanted to ask if you need me back immediately. Something came up. I mean… nothing came up, I just… There’s something–”

“Take as much time as you need.”

“Really?”

“Really. You’ve been working too hard. Are you going home?”

“What?”

“I just thought… Never mind. Take care of whatever you need to take care of.”

“Thank you,” Keith says, mumbles a goodbye, and ends the call.

Why did she think that he’d be going home? To Earth? Is that even still his home? Sometimes it feels like this ship is where he really lives. He does miss Earth, even though he hasn’t called it his home in years. It’s where half his family still lives.

And Shiro… If he’s not already on his way here – which he wouldn’t be if he gets here through a wormhole – Keith might have a chance of running into him on Earth.

Keith looks down at Kosmo. “Are you up for a trip?”

Kosmo huffs at him.

Keith will take that as a yes. It’s not like he wants to hear any other answer.

*

Keith gets permission to land after some confusion. He usually announces his visits in advance, so they know he’s coming. They noticed some activity close to the wormhole he usually uses and established contact immediately after, and even though Keith didn’t say anything that should have them worried, he’s met by concerned faces when he lands and Dr. Holt meets him by his ship, brow creased.

“Keith,” he says, voice low, “what brings you here?”

“I just…” Keith shrugs. Suddenly dropping by unannounced seems like a bad idea. He couldn’t just land in the desert either, though, it would have tripped all kinds of alarms. “I have a few days off. I thought I could drop by.”

Dr. Holt is visibly relieved. “Oh, of course. I was worried you might be dropping by for a different reason. I know a few people who’ll be happy to see you, although I’d imagine someone will try to whisk you away to discuss the state of the galaxy.”

“Maybe not today,” Keith says. He clears his throat. “Is… anyone around?”

“I’m afraid you won’t be seeing Hunk around if you only have a few days, but Katie is here. I’m sure we can let Takashi know you’re here as well.”

Keith nods and tries not to let his face show just how glad he is that he didn’t miss Shiro _again_.

Pidge actually screams when Keith waves at her through the office window. Her chair ends up nearly getting flipped as she scrambles to give him a hug. She doesn’t let go of him for a while.

“I thought you’d forgotten all about us,” Pidge says as she finally pulls away.

“Sorry,” Keith replies. He doesn’t tell her that he was actively trying to avoid Shiro, so he couldn’t swing by more often.

“Well, Shiro did tell me that you’re still alive,” Pidge says and pats his arm. “Since you couldn’t be bothered to.”

Keith huffs. “Hey…”

Pidge laughs and then moves on to wrap her arms around Kosmo. “That’s a big boy,” she coos, “a big, soft wolfie.”

It almost looks like Kosmo leans into the hug before he licks the side of Pidge’s face.

“Aw,” Pidge says and scratches his head. “For how long are you guys staying?”

“Just a couple of days.”

“Well, we’re having dinner together tonight, right?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll tell Shiro to come by,” Pidge says. “He lives in town now, so we can’t just go bug him.”

Right. Because Shiro resigned and now he’s... doing what exactly? Something classified. For the Garrison.

“It’s probably better because Curtis is still around and… Guess it’s easier this way for both of them.”

“Makes sense,” Keith says. He doesn’t ask, even though the questions are burning at the tip of his tongue. He wants to know if they’re still friends, if they even still talk, when Shiro decided to work for the Garrison again, if it was before or after things with Curtis ended. “Have you heard from Lance?” he asks instead.

“Have you _not_ heard from Lance?” Pidge shoots back.

Keith can’t bring himself to look directly at Pidge when he says, “I’ve been a little out of touch.” It was really only self-preservation. They tried to meet up once a year, but after Shiro got married, Keith didn’t make much of an effort to go anymore.

Pidge stares him down for a moment. “No shit,” she says and beckons him to follow her. “Last time I checked, Lance was still trying to find her.”

“He hasn’t been home in a while, huh?”

“Something the two of you have in common,” Pidge chirps, but her face turns more somber a split-second later. She shrugs. “I guess that means he’s getting somewhere, you know?”

Keith smiles. There never was much hope, but Keith is glad that Lance hasn’t given up yet.

Pidge nods and gives Kosmo a pat as she starts walking away. She keeps a hand on his fur and says to Kosmo, “I’ve always known that Keith is a big softie.”

Keith groans and pulls a face at Pidge’s back.

Pidge starts typing away on a little communication device that Keith mistook for a watch, then she starts talking into it – Keith is pretty sure that he catches the words “Shiro” and “pick us up”.

Keith ends up getting whisked away into a meeting before Pidge can successfully hide him. He tries to make it quick, but it still feels like he’s being bombarded with questions for an eternity. He has trouble answering half of them, because his thoughts keep drifting back to Pidge, who excused herself quickly when Keith got pulled into this meeting.

She is waiting for Keith outside the door when he resurfaces. “Shiro is waiting or us at the front gate,” she says and starts leading the way.

Keith’s skin is buzzing, and maybe it’s the desert air, the merciless sun burning down on them as they head outside, or maybe it’s seeing Shiro, who is leaning against his car outside the front gate, chatting to one of the officers there, glasses perched on his nose, a small smile on his face.

He looks happy.

He looked happy when Keith ran into him at Aindaron, but he didn’t look so relaxed and casual.

Shiro stiffens visibly when he spots Pidge and Keith, but his smile reappears when Pidge goes in for a hug before Shiro even has a chance to say hello.

“Keith,” Shiro says once Pidge has let go of him, “what brings you here?”

“I–”

“He missed us,” Pidge says and opens the door for Kosmo to climb onto the backseat, before she hops into the passenger seat.

Shiro smiles at Keith. “Did you really?”

Keith glares at him in reply and slides into the backseat beside Kosmo. He’s pretty sure that he hears Shiro laugh as he walks around the car.

Kosmo sticks his head out the window as Shiro takes them into town, to a diner Keith remembers from years and years ago.

It hasn’t changed at all.

This diner has survived an intergalactic war. They still serve the same pancakes and bacon combo, the oversized milkshakes, and they still have the free fry refills.

One of the serves greets Shiro like an old friend and tells him to pick whichever table he’d like. They order – Keith has some trouble deciding what to go for, because, admittedly, he really missed all of this food, and eventually ends up with a cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake.

“Don’t worry,” Shiro says, “we can always come back tomorrow.”

Keith looks up.

“You are staying for a few days, right?” Shiro asks.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Where are you staying?” Pidge asks.

“On the ship,” Keith replies, and it ends up sounding like a question. He hadn’t thought about it. They’d likely find him a room at the Garrison if he asked, but he can’t say that he’s particularly keen on spending even just a minute in one of those rooms.

Shiro clears his throat. “I have a guest room.”

“You don’t have to–”

Pidge’s elbow hits Keith in the ribs and he falls silent.

Well, it seems like his sleeping arrangements have been decided.

*

They drop Pidge off at the Garrison with a dozen promises that Keith will come back in the morning. Keith’s ship is still on Garrison grounds, so it’s not like he can just take off without anyone noticing.

“You’d find a way,” Pidge says when he tells her exactly that. “I know you.”

Shiro laughs and it’s bright and happy and it shakes something loose inside of Keith’s chest.

“I promise I won’t leave without saying goodbye,” Keith says.

Pidge narrows her eyes at him and gives both their shoulders a squeeze before she slides out of the car, not without giving Kosmo a pat. Once she’s slammed the car door shut and it’s just Keith and Shiro, the silence that settles between them is almost unbearable.

Shiro shifts back into drive but doesn’t start driving.

Keith gives him a moment.

“Sun’s setting in less than an hour.”

“Oh,” Keith says.

“It’s only one sunset,” Shiro says jokingly, “but…”

Keith nods. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, let’s… yeah.”

A barely-there smile settles on Shiro’s face as he drives away from the Garrison and then turns onto an unmarked dirt road that leads them out into the desert.

Shiro stops right by their spot.

Keith has no idea how he still recognizes it – they haven’t been here in so long. The last time was… lifetimes ago. It suddenly doesn’t seem real that they’re here again, where it all started. They were different people back then. If the Keith from back then met him now, he wouldn’t recognize himself.

Keith lets Kosmo out of of the car and he bounds away, dust rising as he circles back to them and sits down right next to Keith’s favorite spot. He remembers, too. Keith came out here with him almost every evening before they left Earth before the end of the war. And after… after Keith was here, but he eventually came to the conclusion that he and Shiro were so broken that there was no way to pick up the pieces, and so he left.

Shiro lowers himself onto the ground next to Kosmo, who immediately puts his head in Shiro’s lap. Keith almost wishes he could do the same, have Shiro’s fingers card through his hair as the sun goes down.

Only one sunset here.

Keith sits down next to Shiro. He leaves some space between them, because he doesn’t trust himself right now, doesn’t trust his heart not to simply take what it wants without first consulting his brain.

“It’s been a while,” Shiro says.

Keith doesn’t know if he means that it’s been a while since they last sat here or if it’s been a while since they last saw each other. Those are two very different _whiles_.

When Keith doesn’t reply, Shiro reaches over to give Keith’s knee a nudge, and maybe that’s what being struck by lightning feels like. “Why are you you really here?” Shiro asks.

“What… do you mean?”

“You didn’t really just drop by for the hell of it, did you?”

Keith’s face feels hot. Did Shiro just see right through him?

“Did the Blade send you?” Shiro goes on. There’s an edge to his voice; there might even be some fear in it. “Is… is something happening?”

“Oh…” Keith shakes his head. “No. All quiet out there. Don’t worry.”

“Then why _are_ you here?”

“Like you said… just for the hell of it.” Keith draws a line into the desert dust with his finger and wipes it away and draws another line and wipes it away again. “I…” What is he supposed to tell Shiro? The truth?

Shiro hums. “I was hoping I might run into you a few weeks ago. I was supposed to head out again last week, but we’ve had some trouble generating wormholes, so we’ve all been stuck down here.”

That explains quite a few things. Keith raises his eyebrows at him. “What exactly is it that you’re doing?” He has his suspicious – there are things the Garrison might need that you’d only find in a place like Aindaron. Alien technology. Parts. Even just advice. Someone like Shiro would know his way around out there.

Shiro laughs. Again, that bright and happy laugh. “I’m just a pilot, Keith.”

“Yeah. Right.”

Shiro keeps on smiling, but doesn’t say a word.

“We could use some pilots,” Keith says lowly.

He considered asking Shiro way back when they were all starting over, if he might consider joining him and the Blade, but back then Curtis was already in the picture, and Shiro was completely out of reach for him in so many ways. He gave up on ever flying with Shiro again, but now?

Shiro lets out a soft breath. “Really?”

“Really.”

“There are a lot of pilots out there.”

Keith looks out at the setting sun. He only has one sunset. They won’t stick around for a second one. He can come clean right now, or lose his chance. Because that’s why he’s really here, isn’t it? He didn’t just fly all the way to Earth to say hello to some old friends. Keith swallows hard. “Not all pilots are you,” he says.

It sits between them as the sun goes down. Neither of them starts talking again, but when it’s almost over, Keith feels Shiro’s fingers twitch against his hand, resting against the ground. Keith lets him have the hand; he can have it, his entire arm, all of him, his heart and whatever else he’s carrying around with him. Shiro can have it all. Keith is so tired of pretending that he isn’t feeling all the things he’s feeling.

He’s so tired of pretending that there was a time when he didn’t love Shiro.

Shiro takes his hand and pulls it closer to him.

Out here, Keith has wished he could hold Shiro’s hand so many times that he lost count.

“Shiro,” Keith says.

That’s it. Just that. No _I’m here because of you_. No _I missed you_. No _I love you_. He just wants to say Shiro’s name without it hurting.

It feels strangely like a beginning.

*

The sun dips below the mountain range on the horizon and they’re soon sitting in the dark. Shiro’s new prosthetic doesn’t glow like the other one and the moon is only a sliver in the night sky. There’s the glow of the city in the distance, the lights of the Garrison behind them, but it’s nothing like their glowing beach on Aindaron.

“Do you want to head back?” Shiro asks. There’s some reluctance in it, like he doesn’t actually want to go yet.

Keith doesn’t know what he wants. It all depends on what’s going to happen when Shiro lets go of Keith’s hand, and Keith isn’t ready to find out. “A few more minutes,” Keith says.

“Okay.”

Shiro slowly drags his thumb back and forth against the palm of Keith’s hand and Keith looks up at the stars. There’s so much out there, so much they still haven’t discovered, but Keith’s universe seems small right now. It’s just him and Shiro, in this tiny corner of the world that belongs only to them tonight.

“Ready?” Keith asks after a few minutes, even though he was the one who said that he didn’t want to go yet.

Shiro’s thumb stills and he squeezes Keith’s hand. “Ready.”

Keith gets to his feet and pulls Shiro with him, because Shiro is still holding his hand, like he can’t bring himself to let go.

In the quiet, Shiro draws in a deep breath. “I…”

And Keith doesn’t need him to finish that sentence. He understands. He understands everything, their entire story, from beginning to end, from the day they first sat here together to this night. “I know,” Keith says. His fingers find the fabric of Shiro’s jacket and his lips find Shiro’s.

Maybe _this_ is what it feels like to be struck by lightning.

Keith’s heart gives a stutter when Shiro kisses him back, his lips soft against Keith’s as he deepens their kiss, one arm wrapped tightly around Keith, the other one still holding Keith’s hand. Keith eventually tugs his fingers free so he can grab a fistful of Shiro’s hair and Shiro gasps softly against his lips.

Keith tries not to think about for how long he’s wanted this. He’s so lucky, isn’t he? That he gets to exist in a universe where he gets to have this after all?

Shiro’s thumb brushes over his cheek, coming to a rest on Keith’s scar. “Keith…”

Keith smiles and leans into Shiro’s touch. He’ll stand here with Shiro all night. He doesn’t care. He’ll watch the sun come up again.

“Come home with me?” Shiro says.

Keith nods.

That night, he crawls into bed with Shiro, and sleeps with his head tucked into the crook of Shiro’s neck, and the next morning he wakes up with Shiro’s hand curled above his heart.

 

 

 

**V.**

 

Keith hears the _crunch-crunch_ of Shiro’s footsteps before Shiro sits down next to him, shoulder to shoulder with Keith.

“Hey,” Shiro says.

Keith leans into him. “Hey.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

“You missed the first one,” Keith whispers and nods out at the sea. The first of Aindaron’s suns has just disappeared and the second one is following suit. “I was starting to think you were standing me up.”

Shiro kisses his temple. “I’d never.”

Keith hums and tilts his head so he can give Shiro a kiss in return. “Are you staying the night?”

“I need to head back,” Shiro says.

Keith only nods. That’s all right, he expected as much.

Because this is the last time they’re meeting on Aindraon. Shiro is going to head back to the Garrison one last time today and after that–

“I’m all yours tomorrow,” Shiro says and puts his arm around Keith.

Not that they’ll actually see each other tomorrow; it’ll take Keith a few days to get to Earth and pick Shiro up for an adventure that’s all theirs, but he appreciates the sentiment.

Around them, the pebbles are starting to glow.

“I’ll stay for the sunset.”

He’ll stay for the sunset and Keith is going to do his very best to convince him to stay for a few more minutes after that. Maybe fifteen. Or twenty. Just enough to remind himself what kissing Shiro feels like.

Once Shiro joins him at the Blade’s base, they’re going to head off together for a while. It’ll be just them.

“I got a message from Lance on the way here,” Shiro says.

“I think I got the exact same one,” Keith says. It was mostly about a reunion he was planning, but he also said he had some other news to share. “Guess we’ll get an invitation to Altea soon.”

Shiro hums and pulls at Keith jacket, probably to get him closer, even though Keith is as close as he could possibly be already. Shiro’s hand runs up Keith’s spine and sneaks into Keith’s hair. It’s much longer now than it used to be – some of the kids at the base were trying to braid it the other day.

Keith picks up a handful of pebbles and lets them fall back onto the beach. “Do you think anyone’s going to notice if I take one of these?”

“Why?”

“I just want to remember this place,” Keith mumbles.

“You come here all the time.”

“I…” Keith is glad that he’s tucked against Shiro so he doesn’t have to look him in the eye. “I don’t actually come here _that_ often.”

“Oh,” Shiro says. “ _Oh_.”

“I didn’t come because of you,” Keith says gruffly.

“No?”

Keith laughs. “No.” He gives Shiro’s thigh a squeeze. “Maybe once. And then you weren’t even here.”

“Sorry,” Shiro whispers.

“That’s okay,” Keith says and tucks a few of the glowing pebbles into his pocket. “I found you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated :)


End file.
